As Far Away As Possible
by Hoodies and Leather
Summary: Jesse can't stop thinking about what happened to Drew Sharp.


_"It's been seven weeks today,"_ Jesse thought as he stared blankly at the wall in the darkness of his room. His eyes dry and irritated from lack of sleep. He hadn't been sleeping for more than an hour or two at a time since that day - the day he kept trying to forget.

Jesse Pinkman wouldn't have thought in a million years that if there was one person in the world that would ever put things into crystal clear perspective for him, it would be a fourteen-year-old boy named Drew Sharp. A boy whose name was never known to Jesse while he was alive.

He remembered holding the boy in his arms and desperately trying to wake him up, hoping against all logic that he was only injured and comatose and would wake up soon. Hell, he'd probably even forget what all happened, right? They could somehow make it work out to where they didn't have to permanently silence him. There could be an outcome in which Drew would get to live to be fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, so on and so forth. ...Right?

Jesse clutched the boy close to him, unaware of whether he was already dead or quickly dying in his arms. Jesse's head was spinning too much to focus on that. He snarled at Walt and Mike like a wolf protecting a member of its pack. He refused to "let the boy go" as they suggested, pleading with them through flooded eyes that Drew could be saved and that he wouldn't get them in trouble if he were allowed to live.

"He needs an ambulance! He's a goddamn _kid_ for fuck's sakes!"

He refused to meet Todd's gaze, refused to acknowledge the fact that he was even alive. The mere idea that this sociopath would continue living while an innocent little boy was going to die was enough to make Jesse feel like he was going to puke himself to death.

But why? Jesse wanted to know why he cared so much for this kid that he didn't even know. Doesn't even know what his voice sounded like or anything about him, other than the obvious; he enjoyed riding his dirtbike through the desert and wanted a pet tarantula.

Jesse could tell, just from the few seconds that he saw of Drew Sharp while he was breathing, that this kid wouldn't hurt a fly. And that was a refreshing thing to see - beautiful even, especially after all of the tragedies and degrees of corruption he's witnessed and reluctantly taken part of.

He was innocent and sweet enough to wave at a few strangers, rather than flip them off or try to start trouble like most kids his age would. A simple gesture, sure, but it spoke a lot of the boy's character and it made Jesse feel all the more heartbroken that he was dead because of it.

"Wake up, kid. _Come on!_" Jesse shook Drew, even patting him on the face lightly in hopes of getting him to come back.

"Jesse, give it up. The kid's dead!" Walt shouted callously.

"FUCK OFF!"

He'd gladly give it all up. All of it, just to be able to have the luxury of carefree innocence, to be a kid again. He promised he wouldn't take it for granted like he did the first time. Jesse wished he was friends with kids like Drew Sharp when he was fourteen. Maybe then he'd be the type of kid that was friendly strangers instead of the kind that constantly ditched school and cussed people out. His life wouldn't have ended up like this.

Jesse reeled from the pain of knowing that Drew's simple gesture was probably the nicest he's been treated in a long time. He doubted his little brother would treat him with as much respect. He'd probably pretend not to know him anymore, as per brainwashing from his parents.

"You need to let the boy go, Jesse." Walt said calmly, trying to defuse the situation.

"Why? So you can make him fucking disappear in a barrel like everyone else?" Jesse said. Walt winced at that remark. Jesse said it out of honesty and to take a swipe at Walter, but with the way he had been acting like nothing mattered more than the business and subtracting people from the equation like it was no big deal, Jesse wasn't sure he'd give a shit about what he had to say.

Jesse knew he was fighting a losing battle. He knew the only way things could continue was if he were to let Drew go. But he wouldn't do it without a fight. He wanted Walt, Mike and especially Todd to realize just how fucked up this whole situation was.

"It's pretty goddamn disgusting, you know? Doing this to a fucking _child!_" Jesse spat, glaring at the three of them standing over him, Drew and the fallen bike.

"When the fuck is it going to end, huh!?" Jesse could feel his eyes burning with tears for probably the nineteenth time in the last five minutes. He buried his face against the back of Drew's head, sobbing into the boy's soft brown hair. "When are innocent people going to stop fucking dying for us to keep selling this shit!?"

The boy had to be around Jake's age, maybe a little older. What if that had been his brother? It was bad enough killing adults, but killing kids was a whole new level of evil.

Jesse figured he probably looked like a lunatic right now, holding onto the body of a young boy while crying hysterically. He didn't really care because at least he knew he wasn't as unbalanced as the bastard who shot him dead like it was nothing. In that moment, Jesse was thankful that he at least still had the capacity to care about the life of a teenage boy, that he could easily tell the difference between right and wrong. For a while, he wasn't sure if he knew where the line was anymore and that scared the shit out of him.

He learned that having a conscience was more important than being a stone cold hard-ass with no regard to anyone but himself.

_"Please, just get me out of this situation. No, get __**him**__ out of this situation. Please. I'm begging you. Turn back the clock. I promise I won't sell another shard of meth as long as I live if you do this."_ Jesse begged, but he honestly wasn't sure to who anymore. He didn't figure God could exist if he'd allow such an atrocity to take place.

"Get a hold of yourself, Jesse! We have to deal with this now or we're all fucked! We're running out of time!" Walter said, approaching Jesse cautiously but losing his patience.

Jesse gripped the boy a while longer, his fingers turning white while clutching the material of Drew's denim jacket. Jesse stared down at him sadly, more tears pouring down his cheeks when he thought of how this boy was planning on being home in 15 minutes, excited to give his pet a new home and name and then probably sit down with his parents for dinner and continue living the life he deserves to keep living.

"I'm sorry," Jesse whispered, as if he were the one who owed Drew the apology. "I promise.. I promise he won't get away with it. I'll make sure the fucker pays for it." Jesse hugged Drew around the shoulders and gently laid him on the ground. He shook as he was racked with sobs and stepped away from the boy without looking at him again.

As soon as he turned away, he proceeded to regurgitate all of the contents of his stomach onto the burning dirt under his feet.

Drew Sharp became something of a comforting thought for Jesse, as equally as he was a painful one. He represented hope and innocence; two things Jesse lost a long time ago and badly wishes he still had.

He was proof that a better life is possible and Jesse was going to do everything he could to make that better life his own reality. Drew also reminded him of how badly he wanted to be far away from what has become of his world.

Jesse didn't utter a single word for hours after that. Communicating mostly through glares and scowls. No one dared to request his help in covering up what just happened except for Todd, but Mike quickly took care of that with a disapproving shake of his head.

He wasn't sure if he was a believer in the afterlife, but regardless, Jesse silently asked his aunt to look after Drew. He figured she could be there for him, like she was there for Jesse.

Every time a news story about Drew showed up on the news, Jesse wanted to stop existing. It would happen just as he was starting to feel normal too. Instantly, he'd feel heartbroken all over again, that all too familiar pain in his chest and stomach and burning in his eyes. He hated the fact that Drew's mom and dad would go the rest of their lives always wondering what happened to their son and never getting an answer. He hated even more that he knew what happened and wouldn't be able to tell them.

"I promise I'm going to make this right." Jesse said to himself, still staring at the wall and his eyes welling up."One day I will get revenge for Drew and his parents. I'm not just going to sit by and continue letting these kids, or anyone else for that matter, pay for our mistakes."

Jesse turned and buried his face against his pillow and closed his eyes, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

"I'm going to make it right."


End file.
